The Ups and Downs of Gluttony
by chuffed4angst
Summary: Ron loves food just as much as sex. Hermione decides that feeding/controlling Ron is better than sex. Where will this odd relationship go? Written for the 3G Ron-A-Thon on Porkish Pixies. Warning: Control freak Hermione; oddly graphic fat attraction/sex.


After Ron's attention seeking debacle with Lavender Brown in sixth year, Hermione decided to take matters into her own hands. Ron might be a bit of a gormless prat, but she honest enough with herself to admit that she fancied the prat to bits. Thinking on it, she thought perhaps one reason it had taken Ron so long to "spot" the fact that one of his two best friends was a girl was because of her bookish façade.

Hermione wanted to attract Ron, but she didn't want to turn into some overly fashion conscious twit to do so. The false Moody had told Harry to work to his strengths and, despite the questionable source, it seemed like good advice. Sticking to her strengths, Hermione did some research. She read _Shag! A Beginner's Guide_ and found an interactive diagram of magical erogenous zones. She tagged and highlighted a few key pages in the _Idiotic Wizard's Guide to Fabulous Sex_ for Ron to read. She bought a purple lace knickers and bra set. She practiced a few hair and cosmetic charms.

When Hermione felt she was adequately prepared – that is to say that she could have taught an advanced course in sex education – she gave the marked-up _Idiot's_ guide to Ron with instructions to meet her the next evening in the Room of Requirements.

Walking in front of the door to the Room of Requirements the next day, she thought really hard about what Ron would want in a romantic rendezvous and opened the door into a cozy three room cottage with views out into a secluded country side. There was an oversized couch by the fire in the living room, an opulent bathroom with sunken bath and multiple heads in the shower, and a fully stocked country kitchen. A home cooked dinner sat on the kitchen table under stasis charms. Walking back to the living room, she found cheese, crackers, a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table by the couch.

When Ron came in a few minutes later, Hermione was very glad for the Room's provisions. As prepared as she was, and as interested as Ron was, there was an initial awkwardness that could have been disastrous. As it was, they sat on the couch and sipped wine together. The wine smoothed out the jagged edges and the cheese and crackers gave Ron comfort while Hermione rambled on about symbiotic opportunities.

Hermione was half through her analysis of why, exactly, she thought it would be a good idea to explore new aspects of their friendship when Ron budged over, bumped her shoulder with his own and pulled her up and into his lap. Hermione may have been ahead in the theory department, but Ron had actually honed snogging to a fine science. He was happy to share his knowledge, especially considering, you know, how enthusiastic Hermione was about the pursuit of knowledge, and all. Hermione found that she quite enjoyed letting Ron tutor her for a change.

Once it started, it all happened quickly. With all their bickering and bantering, they were going into this whole thing with about two years of built up foreplay. The snogging turned needy. Hands and fingers roamed over well-documented erogenous zones and happily found that, with a very little tweaking, the zones performed as advertised. Soon enough, Ron had tweaked Hermione to a desperate wanting. Hermione's responsiveness and her gentle fondling along his perineum and sacks took Ron by surprise and had him coming as soon as Hermione's hand actually grasped his cock. Minutes later, when Ron's brain began to function again, he very lovingly attended to Hermione's satisfaction as outlined in paragraph 13 of the _Idiot's _guide.

The whole experience left them grinning like idiots and murmuring things like "brilliant!" After a brief snuggle, however, Ron's stomach gave a deep and hollow growl. It had been less than 2 hours since dinner, but he had worked up quite an appetite. Ron scowled slightly and apologized. Shaking her head, Hermione patted Ron's hollow stomach. "I saw dinner set in the kitchen. Let's go see."

Ron brightened up at the sight of dinner. There was a roasted chicken, stuffing, gravy, yams, salad and fresh baked bread. Magically conjured or not, it smelled divine. Ron tucked in to two heaping plates full while Hermione finished her glass of wine. It felt just right. Their discussion was easy. Ron was in heaven, having gone from one of his top two indulgences to the other. Given the chance to unabashedly watch as Ron ate, Hermione appreciated the pure joy that Ron seemed to inhale as he ate. He went from happily satisfied to a state of ultimate pleasure that Hermione had never noticed during meals at the Burrow or in the Great Hall.

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Hermione's efforts were a resounding success. She and Ron became a couple, as all of Gryffindore and most of the school knew they would. Harry was grateful that his friends didn't feel the need to exhibit their relationship as publicly or wetly as Ron and Lavender had. Harry really hadn't expected any less from his most reasonable and academic friend Hermione. Little did any of their school mates know that the reason they were able to behave somewhat normally in public was that they regularly escaped to the Room of Requirements for their together time.

Ron and Hermione had an excellent sex life. In addition to being athletic and enthusiastic, Ron turned out to be a surprisingly gentle and attentive lover, making sure that the joy of good sex was always mutual for them. Yet, Hermione's satisfaction was heightened when she was controlling Ron's pleasure. She knew Ron's most sensitive spots, favorite rhythms and angles. She knew the gentle but persistent touch that would hold him at the edge for eternity and the vicious increases that would propel him to ecstasy. Their lovemaking would go on for hours, with them taking turns in focusing on the other's pleasure.

Afterwards, Hermione always enjoyed watching and encouraging Ron's post-sex binges. Ron liked to call them snacks, but Hermione was the sort to call a spade a spade. And Ron liked to binge after sex. It was just so very Ron, that Hermione had viewed it fondly and indulgently. With all of the sacrifices that they both made in sticking with Harry through the horcrux hunt, the war and its aftermath, she loved pampering Ron with the simple pleasures.

She wasn't ashamed to admit that she derived a certain amount of vicarious pleasure in watching Ron eat. After sex, Hermione would arrange for one of Ron's favorite foods to appear. A huge chunk of hot mulberry pie a la mode with Fortescue's rich French Vanilla ice cream, for example. Hermione would listen to the deep satisfied sounds Ron made as he ate. She watched to see that food was good and plentiful enough. If it was, Ron's expression went from post-coital satisfaction back to the beatific state of ecstasy otherwise present only fleetingly during the moment of orgasm.

Over the years, Hermione found that she quite liked how long the joy of this second delight lasted for Ron. Unlike the fleeting and singular thrill of male orgasm, Ron's delight in binging could last for 10 or 15 minutes. When he had eaten his fill, Ron would lie back on his pillows, rubbing his full belly and humming. When he had hummed himself out, his eyes would open to a glazed, drunken look, his face covered by a crooked grin. When he could finally gather himself, he would scoop Hermione to his side and murmur incoherent praises until he fell to sleep with his face pressed into her soft hair.

She couldn't explain why, but Hermione found the sight of a fully sated Ron incredibly arousing. She got more and more aroused as she brought Ron through his binging experience. So long as there was more food available, he would keep going. She found that multiple treats would lead to repeated and longer post-binge happiness. Feeling as though she was able to give Ron a joy akin to the miracle of multiple female orgasms – of which he had been forever jealous – Hermione was eager to offer Ron such enhanced pleasure.

_______________________

Married soon after the final battle, Hermione found that her greatest challenge was keeping Ron fed and her pantry well-stocked. The man simply ate like a hippogriff. She thought he might slow down after he stopped growing, but no such luck. But even if keeping up with his appetites on a daily basis might be a chore, Hermione still found pleasure in the night time binges. She explored different ways of satisfying Ron's post-sex hunger. If she had the time, she would work ahead of time to cook his favorites. More often, she simply picked up an extra-large order of take out. For special occasions, she arranged for them to stay at lavish hotels with unlimited room service.

Her only disappointment was that Ron had never gained an ounce from all his overeating. She loved how he looked when he was fully sated – the expression of peaceful oblivion on his face and the way he rubbed his distended belly before rolling over to spoon with her. She loved the fact that he could sleep soundly and count on at least eight hours without the interruption of nightmares when he went to bed in this happy state. On non-binge nights, Ron usually suffered nightmares of friends and family killed during war and his work as an auror after the war. On these nights, he would toss and turn in his disturbed sleep and wake with a growling stomach hours before dawn.

Hermione wanted Ron's happiness to last, and she felt as though a little weight gain would cement the fact that post-war life was relatively good, meals would be regular and happiness could be counted on. His face would not look so drawn and his body might have the reserves to let him sleep through the night on a more regular basis. The only problem was that, between Ron's high metabolism, training and working as an auror, and all of his leisure time sports, it didn't seem like he had a prayer of adding any meat to his long lean frame.

--------------------

All of that changed with the cursed explosion at the Ministry cafeteria. Harry and Ron stopped in late one night after a raid on a dark potions laboratory. Harry had gone back up for more coffee when Ron heard a screeching whistle zip closer. Ron barely registered that the sound was coming from the ventilation shaft before the explosion. Tracking the sound more easily from a distance, Harry had barely been able to cast a shield charm between the ventilation shaft and his best friend.

If not for Harry's shield charm, Ron would surely have died. As it was, he broke nearly every bone on the right side of his body. After about a gallon of skellegrow, a few days in a coma, and five weeks at St. Mungo's, Ron was physically whole and going through rehabilitation. Magically, however, he was washed out. The explosion hit Ron with a curse that drained his magical energy. Before the curse breakers were able to lift the curse, he had lost nearly all of his magic. The healers were hopeful that his magic would return if he followed a regimen of vitalizing potions, runic therapy and bed rest.

An unhappy Ron was placed on indefinite disability leave. He became deeply depressed about his situation, not knowing if he would recover in the 18 to 36 months the healers estimated, or not. He was alternately cranky and non-responsive. Most telling of all, in Hermione's opinion, was the fact that Ron absolutely lost his appetite. As his attitude and intake dwindled, his healers became alarmed. A wizard's magic is inextricably intertwined with his psyche and physical self. Unless Ron perked up, there would be no chance for his total recovery.

Hermione tried to help. Harry tried. All of Ron's friends and family were there to support him. And yet, Ron continued to decline. Every day, every news paper, every anecdote he heard reminded Ron of what he was missing, what needed to be done, and what he could not do. After a time, he stopped reading the paper and refused most of his visitors.

Hermione was desperate. So desperate that when she was offered a two year visiting fellow professorship at the Institute for Humanist Wizardry at the University of Pennsylvania in the United States, she hoped a change of environment would help Ron, and she accepted the appointment.

It was a rocky transition, but in the end the change of scenery worked its magic on Ron. The University set them up in a fantastic high rise apartment building with views of a broad parkway surrounded by museums and a river dotted with boat houses, sculls and crew teams. From his perch high atop the city, Ron could witness the vibrant life going on around him, but not be haunted by thoughts that evil events were occurring because of his absence from the streets. Here, he was just a visitor and had no responsibilities.

Hermione's teaching schedule was so heavy that the University assigned her a full-time assistant, Jeeves. Of course, Hermione was still so particular about vetting each and every detail of her work personally, that she was unwilling to delegate much of her work to Jeeves. When she had no other work for him, she would ask him to pop over to her flat to check on Ron.

Ultimately, Jeeves was the absolute best thing that happened to Ron in the course of his rehabilitation. Jeeves was a very technologically savvy young half-blood and his stories about computers, movies and the cultural life in Philadelphia absolutely fascinated Ron. Jeeves introduced Ron to computers, the internet, muggle films, digital on-demand television and muggle music players.

As Ron became more interested in life, his appetite returned with a vengeance. Making up for lost time, he was soon back to his former large meals and larger post-sex 'snacks'. Hearing Ron waxing romantic about a particularly delicious lunch he had just had, Jeeves decided that Ron 'needed' to tour the best that culinary Philadelphia had to offer: cheese steak sandwiches, Italian hot dogs, Italian ice, soft pretzels, cheese fries, and countless brands of micro brewery beer.

Within a few months in Philadelphia, Ron had developed an enjoyable routine. Hermione woke him before she left for University, having prepared a hearty fry up for his breakfast. He fooled around on the computer most of the morning, trying but not succeeding in keeping the crumbs from his snack du jour out of his keyboard. Jeeves popped in around noon, at which time they would either fix lunch or Jeeves would pop them out somewhere. Most afternoons Ron would cajole Jeeves into accompanying him to the muggle movie theater to see a movie and share popcorn and giant boxes of gummy candies. It wasn't exactly bed rest, but Ron reckoned that as long as he was on his arse most of the time it should count as rest.

Hermione felt guilty about leaving Ron all day and would reward him with big lavish dinners. Rarely, but then increasingly, the couple would share a round of gentle sex followed by ever more lavish post-sex feasts.

Being entirely sedentary, Ron's enormous food intake finally started to catch up with him. Hermione happily noticed when Ron's curse-induced gauntness was replaced by full cheeks and a healthy complexion. She was beyond happy on the day she first noticed Ron's convex stomach filling out. She was thrilled when she noticed his flat stomach bulge out to a small belly.

Beyond feeling happier and stronger, Ron didn't seem to notice when he started to gain weight. Hermione was not sure whether this was because Ron really didn't see any changes or whether he simply didn't care. In either event, Hermione didn't want him to make a big deal about it or stop nourishing himself so well. So, she packed away most of his tailored clothes and bought him an array of comfortable sweats to lounge in.

As the months went by, Ron felt better and ate more. He and Jeeves discovered favorite ice cream parlors, bakeries and ethnic restaurants from countries all over the globe. Soon, Ron's appetite had grown so large that he was making special requests for more at the end of the already generous late evening snacks. Hermione shouldn't have been surprised to find that she needed to replace his big comfy sweats with even larger ones.

Once Ron's set weight had been broken and he started gaining, there seemed to be no end. Within six months he went from an emaciated 160 pounds, back up to his normal 185 pounds. In the next six months Ron gained 80 more. Hermione was happy to note the rise in Ron's bright spirits and the relative absence of his usual nightmares. Hermione enlarged all of his clothes so that he would not be uncomfortable, but at this point, Ron could not help but notice his growing belly. For a long while, he seemed to love it, joking about it and displaying it proudly when asked. He continued to eat outrageously and reap absolutely obscene pleasure from it. And he continued to gain.

At Christmas break, halfway through Hermione's second teaching year, she noticed that Ron was once again absolutely bursting out of his stretchy comfort wear and that his movements were starting to slow because of his bulk. His tops popped up to open a belly gap whenever he bent or reached or simply moved around. Hermione guessed that he must weigh over 350 pounds by now. She made a mental note to enlarge Ron's wardrobe and went back to offering him his next plate full of mince pie.

Hermione thought Ron was sexier than ever. Ripe. Plump. Blooming. Chubby. Cherubic. And happy. Hermione never saw a glimpse of unhappiness in Ron about his growing girth.

----------------------------

Hermione was, therefore, extremely surprised to find Ron waiting for her on the bench in their entryway after her Thursday afternoon seminar class. "'Lo luv," came his deep baritone as he gripped the arm of the bench for support in standing up to greet her.

For the first time in months, he was neither in pajamas, nor a track suit. He looked ready for a night on the town, wearing a navy jacket, striped button down shirt, and khaki trousers. Hermione's mouth watered and she smiled in praise as she noticed how the jacket creased awkwardly to accommodate his bulk; how his thick neck made it impossible for him to button his collar; how the fabric strained at the buttons as the shirt was stretched around his swollen belly; how the stripes gathered and disappeared as the shirt doubled back under his belly overhang to be tucked into his trousers.

He was clean shaved and his hair neatly pulled back in the sexy pony tail she loved. With his hair pulled off of his face, the new roundness of his face was more obvious. Hermione was pleased to see that the last of Ron's jaw bone had disappeared beneath the growing layer of flesh that now reshaped his freckled face. She especially loved the plump roll under his chin that squashed and stretched as he moved his head.

"Did you go shopping today? You look fabulous, handsome."

Ron grinned his crooked grin and nodded. "I thought it was time I got up and about again. Thought I should make myself presentable."

"Very collegiate. I think the Yanks call it preppy."

With a mock look of indignation, Ron pulled his wand out of his back pocket and waived it in a rude gesture. "Preppy schmeppy," he said as the buttons on his blazer turned briefly into swirling, sparkling kaleidoscopes.

"Classy," Hermione giggled as she walked into his awaiting embrace. Her hands circled his breasts, caressed down and under his belly and around his swollen love handles to rest as far around his sides as she could reach. She loved the feel of being entirely enveloped by Ron's hug. Resting her head in the indentation above his belly and between his breasts, she relaxed and inhaled deeply.

Pulling back and looking up into his face, she said, "You even smell great!"

Blushing and tilting his head to the side in that familiar gesture of self-deprecation, Ron shrugged, "Yeah, erm, the bloke in the men's store talked me into topping the outfit off with cologne. He seemed to think I was trying to impress a first date or something."

Stretching up on tip toe to kiss him, Hermione buried her face in the soft flesh under his chin and inhaled again. "Might not be a first date, but your... wife... approves... completely," she said as she kissed his fleshy neck, soft jaw, cherubic cheek and finally his greedy lips.

The kiss deepened, with Ron's minty tongue exploring the well-loved surfaces of Hermione mouth. She sucked his tongue deeply and ran her own tongue around his in the mock-blowjob motion that she knew would turn him on the most. He moaned and pressed deeper. Cupping her cheeks with both hands, he sucked tenderly on her lower lip and, reluctantly, broke the kiss. "Hold that thought for later. Will you, luv?"

A glance to the left into the dining room revealed that Ron had prepared more than himself. The dining table was set with fine linens and dinnerware she had never seen in this apartment. Taper candles on the table and all around the dining room popped alight as she entered. Soft music played. Mouth watering smells wafted in from the kitchen.

Detaching herself from the embrace, but keeping hold of Ron's hand, she walked into the dining room and said, "Wow. You really have been busy today. Tell me. What's the occasion?"

"You take such good care of me, 'Mione. I just want to do something special for you. Lobby is pretty thrilled about it, too. She let me help a bit, but really most of this is her work. Come and sit down." Ron held a chair out for Hermione and bowed slightly.

Hermione giggled and slid into her place with a big grin on her face, "How chivalrous. You'll spoil me."

After pushing her chair in for her, Ron leaned down to kiss her neck and murmured in her ear, "You deserve to be treated like a queen."

The vibrations of his voice and soft breath on her ear sent shivers down Hermione's back. She closed her eyes and smiled dreamily, simply enjoying the sensations. When she opened her eyes, she was pleased to find a banquet worthy of a Hogwarts Feast on the table. And for a change, she noticed that it was set with all of _**her**_ favorites, not Ron's. Lobster bisque, flounder stuffed with crabmeat and topped with béarnaise sauce; filet minion; steamed vegetables; a basket of sweet breads; and on and on. "Well this is a nice change in menu. Have you decided to move on from home cooking to gourmet?"

Lobby served wine, bread and lobster bisque.

As he buttered two rolls, Ron said, "I'm starved after all this work today. Let's get started and we can talk more later."

Taking her time to savor her bowl of bisque, Hermione watched with pleasure as Ron finished off his bisque, four rolls and two glasses of wine. While she finished, he filled a plate for Hermione and set it before her just as Lobby took away the soup dishes.

Hermione chuckled. "Are you thinking of switching roles for tonight? You know I'll never be able to match your intake. But I suppose I could do my best for one night."

Ron looked up and paused in the middle of placing a heaping helping of potatoes au gratin on his plate. "Not exactly switching places, no. But maybe a few, er, adjustments. Lets talk after dinner. I'd hate to let all of Lobby's good food get cold before we get to it." And he began to dig into his meal with gusto.

Never one to eat much herself, Hermione spent more time watching Ron than eating her own dinner. It was amazing to see the volume of food he could tuck neatly into his mouth in one bite. As always, she loved see the look of satisfaction as he ate. She knew he was really enjoying it when he closed his eyes and hummed as he chewed.

She could certainly share his enjoyment tonight. The food was exquisite. She ate slowly and savored each small bite, cleaning her plate as she watched Ron tuck into four overflowing platefuls of his own.

When Ron had licked the last forkful and wiped his mouth with his napkin, Hermione proclaimed the meal a success. "This has been perfectly wonderful, dear. Thank you so much for the special dinner."

Lobby brought out coffee and several desserts. Ron immediately set to serving Hermione a sliver of each, and simply moved the remainder of the Dark Forest cake in front of himself. He rolled his eyes back as he took his first mostly frosting bite.

"'M glad you are enjoying it. It has to be good, you see because its going to be a last supper of sorts for me. That's what I want to talk with you about."

"Last supper?" Hermione raised her eyebrows in amusement. "'A' – I didn't know you even knew about Jesus and his apostles. 'B' – I didn't know the crucifixion was scheduled for tomorrow."

Pointing his fork at Hermione and grinning, Ron said "Ah, ah, ah." Through bites of the quickly disappearing Black Forest Cake, Ron explained, "Maybe now... you'll stop _**mocking**_... my DVD watching. Its... amazing... the _**culture**_... you can pick up from... cinema. Don't you remember... me telling you... about that fascinating DaVinci Code movie... and how I went on to the inter-web... to check it out later?"

Smiling indulgently, Hermione nodded. "_Internet. _Yes. I remember. Now why is this your last supper?"

Ron held up his left index finger in a "just a minute" gesture as he finished off the remainder of the cake. Patting his now distended stomach fondly, he said, "Now _**that**_ hit the spot!" He stood up, took off his blazer and draped it over a chair. "Excuse me a sec. This belt is killing me," he apologized as he undid his belt and the fastener on his trousers and pulled out his shirt tails. Sitting back down, he shifted a bit to give his stomach freedom to be as comfortable as possible.

Rubbing his belly and sighing, Ron looked up and gave Hermione a sheepish look. Slapping the side of his belly harder and making it wobble, Ron began, "Well, this is the point, I suppose. As much as I love you feeding me and enjoy the freedom you have given me to eat and do what I please well, its getting to be a bit too much. Even for me."

Concern furrowing her brow, Hermione exclaimed, "I don't understand. I thought this was what you wanted."

"It is. It was. It will be again, maybe. Its just that I went down to the boat house yesterday. It was a bit embarrassing, really. It seems I just..." Unable to explain, Ron blushed brilliantly and looked down at his hands.

"What happened Ron? You don't have to be embarrassed. We're in this together, aren't we?"

"Yeah. I suppose so. Its just... I'm worried about what will happen if they ever let me off of bed rest. I sure won't be ready to go back to work. And what if they never release me back to work. At some point, I'll be as good as it will get. If I don't have much magic at that point, being physically strong and able will be more important than ever."

"Poor Ron. No wonder you were grumpy and tired last night."

Nodding, Ron shrugged and continued, "I was thinking some things through. This whole free-eating thing was great when I was active every day. I was putting weight on slowly, but I was still _**fit**_, damn it. But being off my feet for the three months my hip was healing and then just bloody lazy for two more was really bad. Do you realize I put on _**eight stone**_ in those five months? I knew I was gaining weight, but I didn't imagine it could have been so much. I went from 290 to 394. Pounds! Three hundred and ninety-four pounds – its just too much."

Hermione squeezed his hand and said, "I'm sorry about yesterday and that the numbers are bothering you, but you know I think you are perfectly beautiful and sexy just the way you are, right?"

The anxiety washed off his face, to be replaced by his most endearing dopy grin. Ron replied, "Yeah, I know you do and that makes me happy. I love what we do together. If our whole world were in this apartment it wouldn't be a problem. But we are going back to London in July and its still a dangerous place for us, with stray Death Eaters and that new gang of young dark wizards. It occurs to me that if I'm having a problem carrying this weight on the scull, I'll be dead if I have to dodge a curse. So, like it or not, I'm going on a diet and going to get back into better shape before we go home."

Despite the desperate denials of the vicious dominatrix in her head, Hermione's public self told Ron, "That sounds very reasonable, of course. You know I will support you in whatever you need to do."

Ron stood up and swept Hermione up and out of her chair. "That's my girl! I knew I could count on you. Don't know what I was worried about."

After a passionate embrace, Ron became hard again. Sweeping her hands over his belly and down under it, Hermione found him. He tilted his hips toward her, pressing himself into her hand. Her squeezing caress pulled a low groan from him.

"Ready to take up where we were before dinner?"

"Absolutely."

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Hermione woke early the next morning. She had never been able to sleep when she was bothered by something. Right now, she was worried about the decision Ron had announced last night.

She understood his reasons, of course. She just didn't like it. He was her feedee, damn it. She did not want to lose control over their games. And she didn't want her huggie bear to lose one ounce of his newly attained size.

She would not allow this. It should be easy to stop. All she would need to do would be to distract Ron until he forgot about his new resolve. With his innate love for food, it shouldn't be too hard.

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The next day, Hermione changed her mind again. She tried to be good. She really did try. Rationally, she knew that Ron was right and that she should support him in his fitness and diet efforts. Her inner dominatrix shrieked her objection to giving up any control over Ron, but the Head Girl in her won out and demanded that she be reasonably supportive.

So she held her tongue and tried to be encouraging. She succeeded, too, for a while. She helped him to pick healthy foods and moderate his portions. She went shopping with him for more supportive trainers so that his long walks would not be as hard on his joints.

But... she missed their feeding sessions. They had shared a special intimacy while he opened himself up to her and she nourished his deepest desires. Without feeding as foreplay, their sex life suffered. Neither one was comfortable initiating sex as frequently as they had before. Even when they bothered to try, their passion languished.

Hermione tried to tell herself that it was all for the best, but she just couldn't maintain her conviction that it was a good thing when she started to notice significant changes in Ron. After just a month, his beautifully soft and round body was withering and becoming riddled with shadows and hard edges. With Ron's normally high metabolism and life long athleticism, the padding seemed to melt off of his limbs, restoring the long lines and hard angles of his muscles. Luckily, his torso remained round and soft, but even that was deflating somewhat and starting to lose its softness.

Hermione just couldn't stand watching all of the love and goodness fade away. Most of all, she couldn't stand the fact that she had totally lost control of their relationship. Ron was doing more things without her. Their time together seemed hollow and the sex was no more than the obligatory minimum.

After six weeks, Ron had lost 48 pounds and trimmed up considerably. Hermione desperately missed his bulk, their feedings and their passion.

She started to subtly sabotage his efforts. First she surreptitiously replaced diet foods with their high fat and high carb counterparts wherever she could. Soon their cupboards were once again full of creamed soups, gravies, biscuits, crisps, ice cream and all of Ron's favorite snacks.

Then she started arranging for them to attend various faculty functions that inevitably interfered with his exercise regime. These first efforts merely slowed Ron's losses.

Next, Hermione began to schedule an increasing number of social engagements in the evenings. Soon, they were attending receptions, dinners and parties at least three times a week. Every one of these events included plentiful drinks, hors d'oeuvre, dinners and desserts. When Ron would express his doubts about his food intake, Hermione would hand him another cocktail and assure him that he was making excellent progress; tonight was a special occasion and splurging "just this once" couldn't hurt.

As he began his diet, Ron found that he could be quite good at abstaining from snacks and big meals. But given the opportunity and encouragement at Hermione's increasingly frequent "special occasions", Ron slid into old habits more at each outing. By the fourth such party, Hermione had learned that with just enough alcohol, Ron's inhibitions evaporated and he accepted plate after plate of hors d'oeuvre from the servers, delighting in the forbidden treats. Once his appetite was aroused, he would attack the dinner courses with gusto, making repeated trips to the buffet or requesting additional plates from the servers.

Having built up momentum in his eating through the evening, he couldn't stop or slow down on the dessert course. So long as Hermione provided drinks, he continued his unrepentant gluttony with abandon and joy, stuffing himself to bursting. Hermione watched with joy as Ron became so entirely hypnotized by the food, causing him to tune out all conversation and his eyes to glaze over. His stomach expanded steadily through the night so that even his roomiest shirts would pull at the buttons. Toward the end of the evening, he would be forced to lean back and loosen his belt.

Hermione absolutely adored these nights. She might not be hand feeding him, but she had choreographed the evening to give Ron the opportunity to feed, which he gobbled up eagerly. She was back in control. She was aroused.

At the end of an extremely successful evening honoring a newly appointed provost, Hermione gently guided Ron home while he was still drunk with his happy post-feeding stupor. Without mentioning how happy she was that he had binged, she undressed him, praising his sexy body. Worshiping him, she massaged him from his feet upward, kneading all sensation in to his center.

Ron felt he was well and truly rewarded. Hermione was genius with her hands and worked him into complete relaxation. When he had fully submitted to her ministrations, she spread his legs, cupped his balls with gentle fingers and ran her hot, wet tongue from tip to base on his cock. Ron's eyes shot open and his breath stuck as he became engulfed in the sensations. Swirling around him with her tongue, Hermione drew him into perfect toothless suction. Ron bucked violently and involuntarily. Hermione reached up to rub circles around Ron's swollen belly, as a reminder to stay still. Ron's efforts to relax and stay still were interrupted at intervals by tiny convulsions and sounds of longing.

Hermione was so aroused by his swollen body, his helpless stupor and her control over his reactions that she grew engorged and wet. She increased the intensity of her attentions, sucking harder and faster. Still, she held his stomach down, reminding him that he was not to act until she permitted it.

His convulsions grew into full bucking and still she held him back. His moaning grew louder and sharper until he shouted. "Please! Now!" Hermione lifted her hand and pulled back up onto her knees. Finally released, Ron rose, scooped her up, threw her flat on her back, spread her and entered in one swift move that belied his bulk.

Ron's hard flip and thrust motion provoked a torn, primeval scream from Hermione. Ron paused deep inside her, allowing her to breathe. Then, with one arm cradling her back and one hand anchoring her shoulders, he pulled out and thrust again and again. Each time, she felt him deeper and harder. His belly crushed her with each thrust, compressing her organs and muscles so that she was impossibly tight around him. Hermione treasured being ridden, yearning for that feeling of being entered and surrounded until nearly broken.

For all of his strength and force, he had no endurance in his bloated stupor. Watching Ron ride her, she made sure to take back the reigns as soon as he was sweaty and winded. As exhaustion set in, he willingly allowed her to roll him onto his back.

Hermione elicited a helpless keen from him by fingering his tip as she guided him into her. Once mounted, she rode him for all she was worth. Leaning forward, she braced her hands around his plump pectorals, working his already hard nipples with her thumbs. She angled her trim hips and stomach against his distended girth, rubbing their bodies as she rode up and down.

She took delight in looking down over him and seeing the bulging mass of his body slosh up and back against her own motion. As his eyes rolled back, his face tensed with arousal and he begged incoherently, she thrilled to know that her every movement pushed him further into helplessly wanting more.

"Mmmng... sahgd... peas mo..."

As it all became too much for her, Hermione arched her back, reached around to stroke his bullocks and clenched hard as orgasm coursed through her repeatedly. Responding to her, Ron's whole body lurched and he exploded his release with a barked out "Ye-as!" Hermione pressed ardently over him as their combined spasms rippled against each other in waives.

Hermione closed her eyes and stayed right where she was. She most liked to be on top and have her Ron under her thumb, in bed and out. High atop her mountain of man, she basked in the afterglow. As she came back to herself, she caressed Ron's plump pectorals, where her hands still rested. Stroking large, strong circles down his bloated belly, she took in Ron's appearance. Hot, sweaty and thoroughly shagged was a given. What turned Hermione on the most, however, was Ron's dazed stupor brought on by too much food, drink and forced exertion. Despite his magical strength and sturdy stature, this Ron was vulnerable and completely dependent upon her. Just as it should be.

Thinking of the excess food and drink she had indulged in while encouraging Ron, Hermione slid out of bed and went downstairs for an hour workout on Ron's exercise equipment. After a shower and fresh pajamas, Hermione slid back into bed and snuggled against her giant hibernating bear to sleep away a perfect night.

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When they returned to England that summer, Ron was in no shape to return to work as an Auror. Despite having kept up with a good amount of walking and weight training, his weight had crept back up and well beyond the point he had started his diet. Now weighing 465 pounds, Ron's weight was a great shock to friends and family who hadn't seen him for 18 months.

Twice his former self, Ron was unrecognizable. His jowels and chubby cheeks distorted his once boyish features, making him seem far older than his 37 years. He had been forced to switch from standard fitted wizards robes to ones which flowed out from gathered shoulders, much like those worn by muggle judges. Underneath, his enormous dress shirt and trousers were only held in place by a pair of magically reinforced suspenders, and his belly sagged obviously below the waist of his trousers.

His posture and movements had changed as well. Like a mother in her ninth month of pregnancy, he now leaned backward to balance his front-heavy body. When he didn't have a hand pressed to his lower back to ease the muscle strain, he often kept his hands folded atop his protruding stomach. His movements had lost their prior speed and grace, replaced by a deliberate, lumbering gait.

At the welcome home dinner in their honor, Ron tried to take his family's surprised comments and ribbing good naturedly. It did start to wear on him as the night went on and his girth was still the sole topic of discussion. Oh, they danced around it a bit, asking about American dining habits and his and Hermione's activities in Philadelphia. But the heart of every topic was Ron's weight. How could Ron perform as an Auror in his physical condition? The idea of a pick-up quiddich game was scrapped in deference to Ron.

Ron wasn't sure if he was grateful for Hermione's response to his family's concern, or not. Throughout the evening, she kept minimizing the situation and expressing her acceptance, if not approval. She would squeeze his hand and smile as she responded to questions, saying, "Oh, its not really that much and I don't mind." "You know our Ron. I just hate to say no."

A/N: I'm really not sure where to go from here, and the fic is overdue for the challenge date, so I'll stop now. Clearly the story is not complete. Hopefully, I'll finish it in due course.


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